Homily for May 10, 2009

Father Tom’s Homily
5th Sunday of Easter (Mother’s Day)
May 10, 2009

It was a common practice in the era of slavery in this country to sell the children of slaves away from their parents. The slaves were considered to be the property of the owners. Selling the children like a commodity was an important source of profit.
This was the source of an old spiritual sung by the black slaves titled, “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child.” It was the mournful cry of the child who grieved the loss of his/her mother.

The motherless child could also be any slave remembering with longing his/her African homeland. One verse says in tearful loneliness, “I’m a long way from home.”
This was also an expression of longing for their home in heaven, burdened as they were in this life by the misery of slavery.
I think it not improper for us to borrow this song of grieving in our own times of loneliness and despair. There are times when we feel like an abandoned child wanting our mother to come and pick us up and wipe away the tears.

It was to such a man in Mexico centuries ago, a man named Juan Diego, that a woman dressed like princess appeared.
Juan Diego had his own struggle with poverty, and shared the sadness of his people who had to endure the insult and hardship of oppression under Spanish oppression.

Feeling abandoned and discouraged, he was walking near a hilltop called Tepeyac that had been dedicated to the very popular Aztec goddess Tonantzin, “Little Mother” of the Earth and Corn. When he heard music coming from the top of the hill, he went to investigate.
There a goddess-like woman called him by name and talked to him. She said she was the Mother of God. When he told of his sadness, she reassured by saying, “I am your mother too.”
This in brief is the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe. It is the story of the Mother of Jesus gathering into her arms those who felt like motherless children to bring healing to their broken hearts.

Looking to Mary, the Mother of Jesus as our mother too, has been an ancient tradition among Catholics and some other Christians. It has its basis in a passage of gospel of John.

As he was about to die on the cross, Jesus spoke a few final words. Let us consider a passage from chapter 19 of John’s gospel.
When this gospel notes that the soldiers cast lots for Jesus’ cloths, one could say that he had nothing left. He was stripped not only of his clothes, but also of his reputation and dignity.
He was ridiculed by his adversaries while dying as a condemned criminal and abandoned by his closest followers. He seemed to have nothing left except a few friends who looked on from a distance.

When Jesus was about to die, his mother and a disciple called “The Beloved Disciple” came close enough to hear his final words spoken through excruciating pain.
The gospel says, “Seeing his mother and the disciple he loved standing with her, Jesus said to his mother, ‘Woman, this is your son.’ Then to the disciple, he said, ‘This is your mother.’”
Addressing Mary as “woman” was a title of respect in that culture given to one’s mother.
John’s gospel gives us what some consider to be Jesus’ last will, giving over to his followers the final treasure he had. That was his mother.
Jesus gave us Mary to be the mother of all his beloved disciples.

Since ancient times, Christians have turned to Mother Mary as a very special saint and spiritual companion.
Many churches have been named after her, as is our own St. Mary Church. During May special devotions have honored her, and images of Mary can be found in windows, paintings and statues.

There is an old statue of Mary at the west side of this church. It is not so much noticed because it is kind of hidden back of the large blue spruce tree along the sidewalk in front of it.
About 25 years ago this statue was stolen one night. It was New Year’s Eve. That summer I found it thrown in the tall weeds down an alley about a block away.

It had been broken into three pieces. One piece was her head broken at the neck. The rest of her body was broken in two. Her nose and face was battered. It seemed to have been an act of hatred.
A parishioner named John Walt did a fine job repairing it. You can barely see the places where it was broken.

This image represents Mary the Mother of battered people everywhere, broken by violence and hatred. She is the one all Motherless children can turn to for understanding and solidarity.